His Last Delete
by ThatSpookyChick
Summary: Kira has conqured L and eleminated crime. Now there's one last murderer to take care of... AU. Takes place at the end of the series. This will be the first of a series to be added soon.


**Author's Note: For those who enjoy my stories and have been looking forward to new ones (which is probably a very small group) I am so sorry this took as long as it did. I have no way to type at home, so I have to mooch off a friend for her laptop. Anyway, whether you review or not, please enjoy.**

**(Friend whose laptop is being mooched note- I hate you Ka-squiggle…-_-)**

As the blood-red sun began its slow descent over Tokyo, a man dodged his way through the throngs of people, his eyes trained on an office building a few blocks ahead. All he could think about was how, if he didn't hurry, he was going to be late, which was quite a dangerous thing, considering his employer. He quickened his pace ever so slightly.

As he glanced around in his attempt to maneuver around a young woman with a baby in her arms, he noticed once again how _clean_ the streets had become. No one talked too loudly, no one was pushing people out of their way. A quick glance between buildings showed that there were neither homeless people nor gangs to be seen. Not even the sewer rats dared show a single whisker. No one had dared show any sign of even wanting to commit a crime, not during the years following the Great Victory, when Kira defeated the last of L's successors. The young man, known almost to all as Mikami, felt his chest swell with pride at the thought. He had, after all, played a key role in that final battle. He wouldn't let all the pride go to his head, however. He knew that all the glory belong to Kira, his God.

He stopped at the door of the tall, needle-like building just long enough to smooth down his wind-blown hair and straighten his suit just a little bit. He had to be presentable if he were to see God face-to-face, after all, just as the priests of old prepared in the temples to face Him, though at that time it was a different him. 'Well,' Mikami thought, 'at least there won't be any confusion now who is He that will be worshipped.'

As he stepped into the front office, cold air hit him in the face as if he had just stepped into a meat locker. He shivered and pulled his coat even tighter, then made his way over to the receptionist with a tight-lipped smile. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with blonde hair straight from a bottle and too-white teeth flashed a grin at him before handing Mikami the sign-in sheet.

"Mr. Mikami!" she gushed. "How nice to see you again!" Mikami wrinkled his nose when her breath hit him; she smelled strongly of the bubble gum she always chewed. He forced a smile and a short hello before filling out the sheet and hurriedly handing it back.

"You can go ahead to the elevator. Mr. Yagami's waiting for you, dear. Have a nice day!" He nodded once more, but his only thoughts were on Kira. He strode purposefully up to the elevator. It came quickly and empty. This didn't really surprise Mikami anymore. The building may be immense, but only a few people ever dared go in unless they were one of the office workers. No one wanted to possibly disturb the God of this new world.

Mikami began pacing nervously as soon as the elevator doors closed. He circled the area in quick, measured steps. It helped him concentrate as well as calm his racing heart. In all truth, he was scared to death. Even though this process was all too familiar to him- he had been to this same place almost daily- it still made him nervous to go face-to-face with God himself. All too soon, the thick metal doors slid open with short _ding._

Mikami strode quickly down the hall until he came to the door he had stood in front of so many times. The long corridor was eerily silent; not much of a surprise, however, since he enjoyed his privacy so much. He finally found the door he was looking for, hidden among the rows and rows of empty rooms. It was a simple affair, no nametag (none was needed), just a plain white door. He knocked softly.

"You may enter." The smooth voice floated through clearly. Taking one last deep, calming breath, Mikami opened the door.

The first thing he saw was a nicely dressed young man propped on the edge of a large mahogany desk. He was dressed in his usual attire, his white dress shirt, khaki pants and blazer, and red tie, and had his light hair combed perfectly. In short, he was absolutely immaculate. The older man crossed the room slowly, eyes down, and knelt at Light's feet. "I am here, Lord," Mikami whispered. "What do you wish to have from me?"

"Arise," Light commanded. "You brought the Death Note, correct?"

Mikami stood quickly. "Yes, sir." He hastily pulled the thin notebook from his briefcase and handed it, eyes still aimed at the floor, to his employer. Light took it from his loose grip and walked across the room. There was a soft rustle behind him. Though he didn't look up, Mikami knew Kira was at the windows, looking out over the city (his city). It was a long time before Light spoke.

"I have a new assignment, Mikami. Stand up." Mikami's eyes widened. He had never told him to stand until the meeting was over. Why now, of all times?

"Surely you remember the day of the Great Victory, correct?" Mikami thought for just a moment, his head reeling with memories. Yes, he remembered the day that L's last successor died quite vividly, remembered laughing maniacally as the bodies fell, first the police force, then the troops that Near summoned _(ashes, ashes, we all fall down)_. He remembered Light's hysterical laugh, remembered the boy running across the warehouse to kick the white-haired boy, kicking him until the ribs made a sickening crack as the bones gave away to the constant abuse.

Before Mikami could react, Light said, "Of course you do. How could you forget? You also obviously remember that that was the day my final enemy was defeated. The rest of those fools- the ones that break in with hopes of killing me- don't matter. Why they bother, though, is beyond me. Can't they see? I have all but completely eliminated crime. People are too afraid to attempt anything; they know how easily it is for me to 'find them'. Honestly, they should be grateful to me, anyway. I have created a safe haven for them, practically a utopia. I have destroyed crime, poverty, and all use for any other 'god'. I _am _their god!"

By the end of his speech, he had moved away from the window and had ended up behind his desk, his arms gesturing with his words at a frantic pace. His eyes glowed a deep crimson, a look of sheer lunacy on his face. When he got worked up like this, Mikami truly feared for his life. He stood back there for a few moments, eyes ablaze and breaths coming out in short, heavy spurts. When he finally calmed down, he sat in the huge office chair and laced his fingers in front of his mouth. His gaze bored through the shuddering man before him.

"So, to finalize this, I have decided to give you one last assignment." He took a sheet of paper from his desk and started scribbling as he talked. "There is one last criminal to take care of before my perfect world is complete. There is a murderer on the loose. He's killed so many people it makes me sick. This paper has his name on it, but that's all. You won't need any more than that, I'm sure." He offered the paper to Mikami.

As soon as the paper touched Mikami's palm, he felt a chill run deep into his core. Something was very, _very _wrong here; he knew that for a fact. He stood there, holding the paper, but Light did not dismisshim just then. He sat quietly, staring Mikami down with an amused expression in his eyes.

"Well," he coaxed, "Go on. Look and see who your target is." Mikami hesitated, then opened the folded paper. Mikami's face paled at the sight. Written in Light's neat, curly letter was _Teru Mikami._

A soft moan of despair floated between his lips as he looked back at Light. For a moment, he could have sworn there was the slightest glimmer of red in the midst of those light brown eyes. "Oh, God, please, don't…"

But Light did not yield a bit. "Mikami," he said, "you know I won't change my mind, no matter what." Mikami let loose a sob, falling to his knees. His legs could no longer hold him.

"Lord, please, don't do this to me. I have been your most faithful servant for years now. Surely I can continue under you. Just please, forgive me, God." Tears began streaming down his face.

"Mikami, get up and face me like a man," Light demanded, his eyes ablaze once more. "There's no way you can talk me out of this. Now go."

Mikami stood up, a defeated look. "If that is your will, sir, then I will do it. May I have the-"

"No, you may not. I want the Death Note to become mine once more after you die. If kill yourself using it, who knows may find it once you are dead."

Mikami nodded, still in a state of shock. "Is that all you wish of me, sir?" Even now, he still didn't look Kira in the eye.

Light nodded dismissively, his focus turning to the packet lying in front of him. "Yes, you may go now, Mikami. Good bye."

Mikami nodded back and turned to go, his movements like someone trapped underwater. He lurched down the hallway to the elevator like a dead man. In some ways, he was.

Later, after the sun had finally given up the ghost and sank below the horizon, Mikami stood at the very edge of the building, his hair and coat whipping around him. Below, cars crawled like glowing ants, trundling along into the night. His stomach churned violently, and he jerked away, pacing until the nausea passed.

"Why would God do this?" he asked aloud. "Am I not to be trusted anymore? Have I not been here at his side all these years, dirtying my hands for the furthering of his plans? Have I not done all this without a word of complaint, with a discipline that none of the others could ever equal? Has God forsaken me?" The last thought brought his pacing to a screeching halt. Could it possibly be true? The look in his eyes went from hopeless to determined and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"No, that can't be it… Perhaps it's time I finally went through with it. If it is God's will, then it _must _be for the greater good."

He strode again to the edge once more, this time with a resolved (or perhaps crazed) look in his eye. Being careful not to look over the ledge, he stood on it and carefully turned his back to the oblivion awaiting him. He turned his eyes to the skies one last time.

"God, if this is what you want, it is what will be. I suppose this last command needs to be followed as diligently as I have followed your others." He laughed bitterly, a harsh laugh that died off with a sob. Before he could lose his nerve, he slid one foot back, then the other, until he finally lost his balance. As he felt the ground rising up to meet him, his finished his last assignment with one word:

"Delete."


End file.
